


Super Awesome Badass Kid Returns the Favour

by lalazee



Series: Kelvin!Verse [4]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Comedy, Family, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 07:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalazee/pseuds/lalazee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Times Jim and Spock had to rescue their kid from untold peril, and the one time their super awesome badass kid returned the favour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super Awesome Badass Kid Returns the Favour

Jim juggled a squirming two year-old on one hip and flipped open his communicator with his free hand. “Kirk to Spock.”  
  
“Spock here, Captain.”  
  
“Do you have those soil sam _phhlrggg_ ,” he choked in frustration as Kelvin’s palm smushed against Jim’s cheek and those tiny grubby fingers stuck into his mouth. Jim sputtered and spat as Kelvin squealed with laughter and pulled on Jim’s gaping mouth.  
  
“Oh, for the love of...”  
  
Jim gave a flustered laugh and plopped Kelly down on his feet. The planet was absent of life, but for the foliage; it was unlikely Kelvin would get into much trouble. Jim kept a sharp eye on the child standing beside him and re-established the connection with Spock.  
  
“Sorry, are you still there?”  
  
“I am. Is everything well, Captain?”  
  
Jim smiled and looked to the pink sky. “Stop fretting, Dad. We’re good.”  
  
“I am not your fath –”  
  
“Soil samples. Are they ready to beam up?”  
  
“Yes, sir. I will have them delivered to Dr. Rodriguez immediately... Kelvin is not exhibiting signs of an allergic reaction to the foreign pollen? ”  
  
 _Such_  a worry-wart. Jim chuckled and looked around. “He’s  _fine_. He’s right he _eeerohgod_.”  
  
Spock’s voice went sharp and demanding over the communicator, but Jim had already dropped it as he sprinted towards the wild array of gargantuan fuchsia lilies. His stomach lurched and lungs stuttered as he approached the flowers. Earlier scans had proven the monstrous blooms to be ‘harmless’ – that is, without noxious or aphrodisiacal pollen.   
  
Somehow they’d missed the part where they were essentially massive  _Venus fly-traps_ , for fuck’s sake!  
  
How did Jim know this? Because one of them was no longer open – no longer four feet in diameter and facing towards the sol. No, this one was closed and shuddering with the frail kicks of Jim’s  _son_.  
  
“Kelvin!” Jim cried, already pulling out his phaser and setting it to kill. “Kelly, it’s okay, Daddy’s coming!”   
  
 _Shit, shit, shit – so fucking stupid – can’t look away for a second – keep calm, don’t panic_.  
  
Jim shot at the dense stem from close range, and the entire thing toppled like a beautiful and mighty tree. Falling to his knees, Jim ripped desperately at the thick, velvety petals. His breath came in sharp bursts, as if he would only allow himself air after a chunk of gooey flesh was shredded from the makeshift pod that cradled his son.   
  
A face emerged – paler than usual and slick with slime. But the large, dark doe-eyes staring up at him were shocked and  _alive_.  
  
“ _Kelvin_.”  
  
Jim blinked back a surge of tearful relief and murmured comforting nothings more for himself than for Kelvin. Hell, the kid wasn’t even crying as Jim freed his arms and pulled him out by the armpits.  
  
Refusing to set him down, Jim ran his hands over his sticky son, checking for injuries that weren’t even there. The weak knees and the strangling hug came after he was assured of Kelly’s immediate safety.  
  
 _Sorry, sorry, so sorry_.  
  
Kelvin was inspecting Jim with those big, intelligent eyes. Then he smiled. “Slimy glooby-gloop!” He cheered, and slapped both of his grimy hands on Jim’s cheeks.  
  
Jim wouldn’t have shrugged those fingers off for the life of him.  
  
He sighed. “Let’s not tell your father about this, okay?”  
  
The most ominous voice in existence rumbled from behind him. “His father is  _here_.”  
  
Jim turned slowly, his most charming grin already in place. “It’s not what it looks like.”  
  


***

  
“Pardon me. May I have your attention?”  
  
A Human male child, approximately nine Terran years of age, turned toward Spock.  
  
“Whaddayawant, mister?” the child grumbled. His nose reminded Spock of the swine on the Kirk family farm.  
  
“Disclose your name immediately,” Spock requested in clipped tones.  
  
“Billy. Billy Arms. What’s it ta you?”  
  
“Am I correct in assuming you are the culprit who broke Kelvin Kirk’s wrist during the recreational period today?”  
  
“Uh,  _no_ ,” Billy replied with a scowl. “I  _tripped_  over his arm during soccer. He’d already fallen over in a tackle.”  
  
Spock raised a brow and spoke quietly. “I see.”  
  
Billy sighed dramatically. “Look, man, I gotta go.”  
  
“Mr. Arms,” Spock began; his voice low and predatory. He kneeled to make eye contact with the boy. “Let me speak plainly. My  _son_  is a Human-Vulcan hybrid. His bones are fifty-four point seven percent more dense than your own flimsy skeletal structure. A simple trip would not carry the force to fracture Kelvin’s wrist.”  
  
Billy curled his lip. “And that’s my problem  _how_?”  
  
Spock narrowed his eyes minutely. “The only logical conclusion is this. You purposely stepped on my son’s wrist. There is no other plausible explanation for the amount of force utilised in order to facilitate a break.”  
  
“I – no –”  
  
“Allow me to continue in even simpler terms, as I am unsure if your intellect is up to par with the average Human nine year old child. You injured my child without repercussion, and that is morally reprehensible.”  
  
Spock leaned in further, his face close to Billy’s. “Are you cognisant of why the planet Vulcan was destroyed, Mr. Arms?”  
  
“W-w-well, N-Nero and –”  
  
“Nero accused a single Vulcan of destroying his entire planet, Mr. Arms. The person he accused was me.” It was unlikely Billy was debriefed on the entire story. Spock would allow him to wonder for now.  
  
Spock’s voice went to a whisper. “If that is true, then please imagine what I could do to a single child, if I chose.”  
  
Billy’s eyes widened to saucers, and Spock stood. He brushed off his slacks with the back of his hand and nodded at the child. “Good day to you, Mr. Arms. My hope is that we do not meet under these circumstances again.”  
  


***

  
"Our child's propensity for mischief and constant disregard for personal safety is entirely attested to your genetic contribution, Jim."  
  
Jim gawked at Spock.  
  
"All right, you know what?  _I've_  never actually told an esteemed council of anything to go fuck themselves, okay? So, why is  _your_  son grounded right now?"  
  
Talia passed by the open door, crunching on an apple. “Who told who to fuck what now?”  
  
Jim and Spock turned and snapped in tandem, “ _Out_ ,” then turned to glare at each other.  
  
“ _Garsh_ , don’t blow a gasket,  _a’ight_ ,” Talia muttered and sashayed away.  
  
Jim blinked at Spock. “What language was she speaking?”  
  
“Not one that I taught at the Academy.”  
  
Then they remembered that they were supposed to be arguing.  
  
Jim fisted his hands on his hips and attempted to look  _Captainly_. “Well, I certainly had nothing to do with Kelvin being  _kidnapped_  off the ship. I think we’ve finally learned that I can’t actually tell these shitty  _all-knowing beings_  what to do.”  
  
“Kelvin is fully aware of the protocol, should he be apprehended. There is no clause which states that he may spit in a High Priest’s face and curse him to a life as a eunuch.”  
  
“Yeah, about that – where did he even learn what a eunuch was?”  
  
Spock’s lips tightened. “ _Jim_.”  
  
Jim shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, Spock. Kelly’s still a kid. He’s gonna do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of the regulations.”  
  
He aimed a meaningful look at Spock. “He’s  _our_  kid, after all.”  
  
Spock waited a beat before his shoulders sagged slightly. He took a single step forward and Jim met him half way. Spock shut his eyes and rested his forehead lightly upon Jim’s shoulder.  
  
“He is that.”  
  
“Doesn’t mean we’re not grounding him for life, though.”  
  
Before Jim’s bondmate even spoke, he could feel Spock’s wry smile at the back of his mind.  
  
“I am relieved we agree on this.”  
  


***

  
“Kelvin,” Spock breathed his son’s name like a prayer. He ran towards the unlit pyre and efficiently began to undo the knots at Kelvin’s bony wrists.  
  
His son lolled his head back against the wooden stake he was tied to and aimed Jim’s grin at him. At age thirteen he was tall and gangly in the way Spock had been, but his expressions were Jim’s mirror. “We have to stop meeting like this.”  
  
“This is a highly inappropriate time to submit to your predilection for comedy,” Spock replied tersely. “Your captors may not be held off by the away team.”  
  
Blond, slanted eyebrows shot up. “Well, until you finish untying me, it really doesn’t matter if I crack a joke or two. There’s not much else I  _can_  do. It’s more logical to make light of the moment than lose hope, right?”  
  
Spock’s fingers did not pause their ministrations upon the rope, but he took a moment to scrutinise his son.   
  
It was rather unfortunate that Kelvin carried a Vulcan’s ability to utilise logic, but was predisposed toward James T. Kirk’s  _brand_  of logic.  
  
Kelvin snorted a laugh. “ _Dad_ , stop projecting your worry – it’s rubbing off on me.”  
  
The rope tumbled to their feet, just as Spock jerked up with a severe look. “I do not project. I possess more control than you credit me for.”  
  
“Uh huh.” Kelvin’s eyes narrowed at a spot over Spock’s shoulder. “Why don’t you stop  _not_ projecting and let’s run the other way.”  
  
Spock turned and noted the wave of aborigines coming towards them.  
  
“Let’s.”   
  


***

  
The cavernous warehouse door that had kept Jim and Spock enclosed in darkness for twenty-eight hours burst in with a thunderous explosion.  
  
Jim staggered to his feet, his body automatically pressing back to shield Spock.  
  
Dust and sand thrust into the room in great pale plumes, marring Jim’s vision and filling his lungs. He refused to shut his eyes against the gritty veil before him. Instead, he took a fighting stance and felt Spock tense beside him in a similar manner.  
  
Then the room was swarming with familiar red-shirted security personnel. Through the centre of it all strode a tall, staid man in a captain’s gold tunic. He mutely approached Jim and Spock, his expression the picture of Vulcan sobriety.  
  
He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. “Locking you guys up on Centi Alpha V? Unoriginal. The return of Khan was rather uneventful, to be honest – you did not miss much.”  
  
Jim smirked. “What took you so long,  _Captain_  Kirk?”  
  
“Kicking ass, taking names – rescuing dads who are too stubborn to retire. Same old.”  
  
Despite the exhaustion that weighed upon Jim’s limbs, he held out his arms.  
  
Kelvin stepped into Jim’s embrace without hesitation; one of his hands reached out to squeeze Spock’s upper arm. When Jim allowed himself to release his son, Spock placed a palm on Kelvin’s shoulder, lingered for a moment and then slid away.  
  
Jim scrubbed his hands over his face and breathed a small sigh of relief. “So, how’d it go down?”  
  
Kelvin raised an eyebrow  _au_  Spock, but his lip quirked. “No business talk. Sleep first or I will have you sedated.”  
  
“Doesn’t that sound familiar,” Jim grumbled and flicked a glance toward Spock. He could sense his bondmate’s fatigue more clearly than his own at this point. “Fine. Can’t believe my own kid’s telling me what to do.”  
  
Kelvin clapped Jim on the shoulder. “You’re as crotchety as Bones these days. Maybe I’ll buy you all rocking chairs for Christmas.”  
  
Jim winced as they headed toward the blown-out exit of the warehouse. “I’ll disown you.”  
  
“You’ve already disowned me twenty-seven times. I think I can stomach another.”  
  
Jim brushed his arm against Spock’s, always craving that comforting touch. Their fingers brushed. “I need to get a new threat that would terrify a captain.”  
  
“I will handle whatever you throw at me.”  
  
Jim balefully asked Spock, “Was I this cocky when I was his age?”   
  
Spock’s eyebrows rose. “You were worse.”  
  
“ _What_? No. How?”  
  
“Kelvin experiences pathos, at the very least.”  
  
“Spock. Are you calling me a psychopath?”  
  
Kelvin breathed a soft laugh and Spock looked off to the side – his equivalent of an eye-roll. “Not directly.”  
  
Jim couldn’t help but chuckle. “I need a new family.”  
  
“That is unfortunate,” Spock replied quietly; and his affection was like a warm blanket around his heart. “Because we are the only one you shall receive.”  
  
“ _I_ amcertainly not complaining,” Kelvin chimed in. “Just try not to get into so much trouble. It becomes tiring having to rescue you so often.”  
  
Jim and Spock exchanged looks.  
  
 _Oh, he had_  no  _idea_.


End file.
